


(What a) Wonderful World

by BloomTwist



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: BUT with weird topics, Blood Breed!Midorima, But he is an awesome Ghost, Crack, He just needs to get laid, Kekkai Sensen Au, Kise pretty much stays dead, M/M, Magus!Kise, MidoKise Week, Midorima needs a Break, Oh wait He has been on a break over thousands of years, There are no Major character deaths because Kise is already Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloomTwist/pseuds/BloomTwist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had been at war, and they lost.</p><p>Or perhaps “lost” is a broader term. The Blood Breeds were unable to cross the Barrier while the Magus lost many in order to establish and take care over it. </p><p>The Great World Collapse was averted, so in a way, one side won. Yet these dangerous creatures with beautiful crimson wings are bidding their time to the eventuality of a fissure in the barrier. </p><p>Or so is what the Green haired Blood Breed believes. Kise would like to beg differently.</p><blockquote>
  <p>For MidoKise Week 2015</p>
  <p>Day 5: AU</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	(What a) Wonderful World

**Author's Note:**

> This is Kekkai Sensen Au because I just couldn't get the image of Midorima and Kise bickering until the gratitious violence of this verse set in. Of course, I took some liberties with the universe, but nothing drastic.
> 
> I had to ensure Kise's survival, Midorima surely would have drunk him whole at the slightest barb. Such a temperamental Blood Breed. Well Kise survives, only because he can't be killed more than his current state /laughs nervously
> 
> So this is the result: two dorks falling in love and failing to notice it. Luckily they have time. 
> 
> Blood Breed is the term used in Kekkai Sensen for vampires. They are normally a mass of shining crimson wings (a very pretty luminicent red) not visible to the human eye, and the only weakness they have is their true name. (Because with it, they can be sealed)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~  
> Dedicated to Lulu. Hun this is a humble sacrifice offering you terrible influence you. Hope you enjoy this. This is all your fault
> 
> Also why am I doing something Midokise when I barely did anything for AkaKi week and have an AoKi project to finish? /tears of shame  
> 

 

The search for beyond is frantic. He can feel the fabric of reality (that annoying little wall that enclosed him and his brethren to this side) give away like a cheap thread torn apart with heavy hands. Such a clear and easy opportunity to escape and feast on the warm blooded preys won’t present itself again. He knows it, and so he beats his wings faster, every last drop of crimson wanting freedom and the taste of fresh warm blood.

In the back of his mind, he knows this event is worrying. The calamity this disaster will entail, should it not be stopped, is unthinkable. Reality could collapse, and therefore any being with magic and stern sense of duty will mend this breach. Which is why he must fly before the rip is mended. There is light on the horizon, a clear blue like the fabled sky in the world humans inhabit.

There is a low whistle and a warm wave of _something_ that washes over him, stuns him in his place. Behind him, around him, he hears the fastenings of locks with a clock time precision. One second and thousand locks close until a cacophony of sound rises and stops still. Just like the debris of buildings in front of him tied with green and blue tendrils.

Only then, he realizes the pressure had him revert to a more tangible form. One similar to those two-legged warm-blooded preys. He frowns, a hand going into a fist as he scans his surroundings. There is a tremendous clash of buildings, a true theatre of destruction and quaint harmony. He recognizes some of them, a few temples, and palaces with long halls and exquisite towers and roofs with precious stones and finery.

He also ignores the metallic monstrosities with concrete that clash against them. Everything is a magnificent disaster of buildings tied with luminescent tendrils that hum a quiet _trap trap trap_ and _danger danger danger_. They give away to shimmering pools of the same color, a quite contrast with the yellow light on him.

An enchanting picture, which dwarfs him minute. Beautiful in a cruel manner.    

“Oh you are green and look Asiatic!” an amazed voice calls out and he sees a young human, barely a teen, really, sitting at the edge of a debris, calves deep on the weird luminescent liquid. His eyes are golden, and they shine like the metal as he smiles with joy “Midori is the name of Japanese green, right?”

There is just a pause, because the concept of Japan and a language is strange in this world. It doesn’t last long, because the implications of a human right over there are disastrous. “You-“

“Oh but you are a man, So Midoriman!” he announces brightly, signaling with a hand before standing up from the piece of debris, his wet feet darkening the concrete piece he stands in. It dries swiftly, erasing all trace of having anyone sitting or even _standing_ –there is no shadow on the rock.

“How is a Magus here?” the green haired man finally asks with clear frustration on both face and voice. Everything has become clear: he is trapped. The rip was mended in a matter of minutes. The liquid is not water, is electrified coda, just like the threads that hold the debris together, and the barrier that keeps everything in – he can see its cyan shine at the edge of the horizon. This is a dead end. But for the barrier to be right at the entrance of _his_ world and being held by a _human_ -

“Easy. I am a ghost and this is the end of the line Blood Breed.” The voice is sure just like the smirk on his pretty face and the taunt of his golden eyes. The immortal growls.

This is how their story starts.

(The universe collectively groaned at it)

 

* * *

**Blood Breed (noun)**

[bluhd breed]

Noble beings cloaked in wings of Red.

Monsters spoken of in popular folklore. Also known as vampires. Their living conditions are associated with a certain amount of Taboo, but that aside, they are nearly immortal creatures. Recent research has revealed that they are ‘altered humans’ who have had their DNA overwritten.

* * *

 

It is five centuries later that he ventures back to this realm of coda. He has done his research, apparently not a single one of his close circle of brethren can access this door. Not even his enemies, which could be advantageous. The thirteen Kings are long gone –they escaped with the rupture- but they could come back anytime given their fickle nature. Still, even they had to be burnt first and then thrown back over this side.

None of them has even seen the coda next to them. Armed with this knowledge he trudges back to the place he was trapped. As before, the pressure makes his form change to that two-legged figure similar to humans, but he pays no mind. A long time has passed, surely by now, the coda would be left unprotected-

Except not. There is a boy watering what appears to be a long flower field. He has blond hair, and the sight makes him growl in annoyance. That is all it takes for the other to turn back, and smile once he is noticed.

Not a single thing has changed with this idiot. Same golden eyes, same golden hair, same two shirt get up that doesn’t cover his neck, same necklace around said neck, same shorts and same long enticing legs with proportional feet and colored toes that don’t touch the floor. The image mocks him, just like the small greeting wave this _magus_ throws at him. He should be dead, and he pauses as the logic dawns in. This magus _is dead_ , so why does he still exists in this coda?

“Hello Midoriman! How long has it been?” same annoyingly cantarine voice as well.

“Why do you keep on repeating that?”

“Midoriman?” the monkey cocks his head to the side, blatant confusion on his voice “Well you are a male aren’t you? Not like you have done the curtesy of showing me your-” one perfectly arched eyebrow wiggles suggestively, as if the message hadn’t come across when a hand had waved in the general direction of his trousers.

The vulgarity appalls him as a personal affront “That’s not-!”

“Oh so you are a woman?” and the infliction of that question is genuine honesty. It physically hurts. This magus is such a stupid monkey. _Why_ did the fates trap him _here?_  “Of course! You have pretty eyelashes. I am so sorry of bothering you with gender-”

“Why do you treat me like I am one of your pathetic little humans!” he interrupts harshly not wanting to hear the outlandish justification any further. Trapped by a monkey magus ghost, this level of pathetic could not be achieved by natural means –he is sure of it.

“Oh well, you need to have a name. The last Blood Breed I saw I called _Blood Breed Number Five_ and seemed very pissed off”

This information at least is new. Was there another of his brethren before him. Did he manage to be free? Yet by the innocently satisfied smirk on those thin lips, the story could have been another. “Did you kill them?” he ventures to ask part curious and part apprehensive.

“The barrier did” is the natural answer followed by a quick dazzle of the light around them and he tries very hard not to snicker when the green haired man eyes the blue walls suspiciously and takes a smooth step away from them.

(Midoriman will defend it to his last breath that it was a step of caution and not out of intimidation)

 

* * *

**The Great Barrier (noun)**

[ði greyt bar-ee-er]

The patchwork at the core of the world.

Barrier fixed by Casters of both sides of reality in order to prevent further damage of the great reality collapse that originated in Hellsalem’s Lot (Former New York City). Three thousand Caster gathered to create it and its contents and construction is heavily restricted information.

* * *

 

He is a Blood Breed. A creature of legends even among his peers. There are only two other older than him –and one escaped to the human world. He is one of the eldest, respected and feared – no one can oppose him without true repercussion. Unless it was one of those pesky little kings. Those creatures that were unknown to death and danced to their own tune. They had gone to the human world as well, but apparently, they could also ambush their way back. Just like the King of _Narcissism_.

Midorima heaves as he bats his battered wings away. The king is _dead_ , well at least deader than the ghost on the Barrier coda. That are the downsides of fighting with other immortals, the blows took time to heal. However, in this chaotic reality, any sign of weakness will be preyed upon. His title and reputation is a double-edged sword after all. He just hopes the opportunity to feast on one of the thirteen Kings is more appetizing than doing on one of the eldest blood breeds.

Seeing the gate, he deigns a smirk of superiority. Unlike that pathetic royal, he does have a place for safety.

“Hi Midorima!” The greeting is instantaneous, and it takes a moment (longer than what he ought to when using both eyes) to localize the monkey. He is hanging by one leg on one of the candelabra, hands and body covered in the diamonds threads used to tie the precious gems to the lamp. Ridiculous, but in touch with the strange universe this coda makes.  

“You are missing an _N_ on that title” is his ruffled answer and Kise laughs patronizingly. It is a clue of how much pain he has endured for his mind to immediately associate this ghost with the name the other gave out handily at their last conversation. Just a casual _by the way, my name is Kise Ryouta_ and now his mind would not back off from it.

“Well I don’t know if you are a woman so better not use an all mal…” the voice drifts away and the vampire tries not to tense when he appears next to him, a few prudent steps away. Golden eyes scrutinize him lightly as he rests on a chaise longue (and where did such a furniture come from?) placed on the flower field. “Are you hurt?”

He refuses to deign the obvious question with an answer. Instead he shifts a little to keep the wounds covered while he rests. Half of his body is battered, and his head is broken at least twice, he is now blind on one eye and that wound will take time to recover. This place is safe, yet he is not a fool. Kise somehow likes him, but his existence is dangerous for him.

“I’m sorry. This is the first time I’ve seen a Blood Breed get hurt. Why are you here?” the voice tries to be placating, and a quick glance lets him know the other is sitting on the ground in front of him.

Such a considerate gesture deserves a rewarding answer “I am the only one who can enter this realm of coda”

“That is correct. This is _my_ coda after all” the magus nods with pride, smiling to himself before standing up and stretching and pauses once realization hits “Oh! Very clever!”

“Could you keep quiet? Your voice is grating my nerves” yet the monkey was not paying attention to him, instead he was walking away eyes focused on the wall and the huge marble entrance he had used as an access route. With each step he took, the clothes changed, they bled into a new color and lengthened until they mimicked the colorful patterns of sigils on the roof.

There was an uneasiness and the sense of _danger danger danger_ came back with force. The ground underneath him glowed, circles moved, like gears of different shape following those naked feet.

From his position the blonde’s body was hidden by a cloak, then he spoke, with a voice of many not unlike the cacophony of locks that first time. “Dissolve five meters from enclosure” and just like that time, something warm washed over him. Yet this time he could appreciate how the wave rippled through the fluctuation of lights.

“What did you do?” he asks once the ripples have faded. If his voice is a bit tight, it is the result of his wounds, nothing else.

“Just ensuring this will be a safe place.” Is the answer. The words carried with the same easiness of that time the blonde stated how the barrier killed the blood breed. At least the magus was back to his original clothes “Whatever hurt you might think it is a good idea to enter the barrier coda. I cannot let that happen”

“You killed” he voiced the thought aloud. Somehow not connecting this one with a murderer. His wings growing cold with the fact that maybe, this was not a safe haven after all.

“What did you think? That this side of the barrier had only a defense mechanism?” he can see the leer even with his eyes closed.

“tch”

“Now, now. You came here to my coda asking for protection. I am only doing my Kingly-“

“Queenly duties” he interrupts nonplused. The aggravated look on that monkey is rewarding.

“I am a ma-” the blonde starts after an indignant huff, chest puffed up head leaning slightly downwards and hand poised on his chest. A perfect representation of an offended person.

“You have not showed me otherwise, and you have pretty eyelashes, Queen” he throws the barb again, trying hard not to add how that body language just now resembles that of an affronted lady. It sorely reminds him of a certain queen with pink hair.

“Oh so now we are playing that card?”

“Then again you are young, so _princess_ suits you better” there is a certain satisfaction in having the tables turned around. Were he not wounded, he would have laughed with all the malice of his last comment. The humor however, fades as fast as his perfect eyesight. He curses quietly, that _King_ should not have wounded him this much.

When he comes to himself again, he is not resting on the chaise longue. Instead, the furniture changed into something more spacious, a divan of sorts with a small back support. The soft fabric against his wings incite him to keep sleeping. However, the fact that he lost consciousness is worrying. Kise is there as well, arms crossed over the back support, chin resting in them and his face has a soft look a shy away from worried.

“I could kiss it better.” He proposes slyly once he makes sure the vampire is fine “But it would just make it worse”

The fact that they can’t touch is obvious. But he doesn’t believe for a moment that this ghost had enough strength to hover him around while he changed furniture. Terrifying control over the barrier or no. So he just asks for the one thing that is bugging him. “Is that a human custom? To place saliva and bacteria on a wound and make it fester?”

“There is not even a romantic bone in your body” the deadpan statement is charged with the same amounts of disappointing judgement as the withering glare thrown by the blood breed. That would have been a perfect place to stop, but alas, stupidity is immense for human kind. Even if they are ghosts

“Wait, you do have bones right?“

“Die” the frustrated order comes automatic.

“But I’m dead already!” there is mirth in the reply and for a moment Midorima wonders what kind of insanity the other suffers to be able to jest about his fate.

“Then die a permanent death!”

“What a weird concept Midorima!” the laughter is loud this time. Kise is just hunching on himself, shaking with mirth on the ground behind the divan. The Blood Breed bristles as his order has been taken as the punchline of a buffoon. Yet there is a far greater affront to his pride.

“Stop calling me like that you stupid Monkey!”

Kise won’t tell him the act of kissing is just the mechanism to transfer awareness from pain to the tender contact with another person. Annoying the green haired Blood Breed did the expected objective just fine. It will take Midorima a year to realize what Kise did –and at least a millennium to understand what it meant.

(The mage doesn’t question how he equated bickering with Midorima with the act of a tender kiss)

(The Blood Breed doesn’t understand his frustration comes from not being able to obtain the physical contact and not from being bested by a _human_ Magus)

 

* * *

**Magic Coda (subject)**

[phonetic spelling]

The haven of magic on oneself

Main framework of a spell with multiple casters. The term ‘Coda’ derives from the compilation in Codice of Magi and used to describe the signature singular of magi in every caster. Recent breakthroughs indicate that a Coda can be manifested on reality as a stronghold and nurtures when synchronized with others to afford a main goal. The most successful use up to date is the formation of The Great Barrier in which three thousand Casters on both worlds synchronized to halt the Great Collapse of New York.

* * *

 

“I am here to break you” the green haired man states coldly, green eyes hard behind glasses and it surely would have been an intimidating confession were said glasses not slightly fogged and held by bandaged fingers with lollipop rings. All in all a very unimpressive picture, even the words were clichéd.

(How did the other find lollipop rings is still a mystery, just like the reason why he carries them. Kise has started to notice a pattern of weird objects being carried by this being when they meet)

“Kinky, but not surprising Midorima.” Kise says nonplussed, eyebrow raised. They are sitting on a clear in this part of the coda, there is no furniture, but the marble floors with specs of green and colored glass are welcoming enough to sit. The sight of the well-cared flower field is inspiring as well. “Try again.” He goads.

“You wanted a secret, Monkey.” The blood breed scoffs crossing his legs and staring down at him from the column he’s sitting on. Kise has gotten used to these strange attempts to appear superior – he finds them gratuitous “It is outstanding you had enough intelligence to figure that one out.”

“Why won’t you tell me your secrets?” he pouts childishly, arms crossed and eyes squinted to the green haired vampire that smirks smugly “It is not as if I can do something about them.” Which is entirely true, there is no way he can communicate with other casters o leave messages on the barrier.

“You are a fool”

“C’mon indulge me. I helped you once.” He tries to bribe with affection but doesn’t hold his hopes high. Mostly he is doing it for the kicks “Plus I am the barrier.” He quips, because he is not afraid of revealing secrets to the enemy. Not one that has done more good than harm.

“Don’t be conceited. You are Kise Ryouta, not the barrier.” Midorima dismisses the claim with the easy of a lord and the magus holds back a wry smile. Things like this keep him sane.  

With a whine and a shout of _don’t get kinky now_ he leans on the ground again, arms, legs extended, and gaze fixed on the far away roof of the coda. He can hear Midorima scoff and throws the other a suggestive wink. Like this, he can appreciate more the works and connections of the barrier, the limits of his own world.

All Kise remembers of his time alive are snippets: a warm house, a never ending flower field, three sunflowers that his father (a mere blur of golden and cyan) used to describe him and his twin sisters, the warm touch of a mother, the anguished screams of his sisters, the break of reality threads, his body disintegrating on purpose and the hum of power. Actually, the hum of power is no memory, it remains with him, has _always_ been with him since birth.

There is power beyond his comprehension, beyond reality, and it flows on him, _in_ him. That is what a replekia magus is. Like a satellite, it replicates and enhances a signal, and in magic it multiplies exponentially the strength of a spell by coercing the power of an untouched reality and pouring it into the code. Magic Barriers had enormous strength with them at their core.

As twins, his older sisters were supposed to be stronger. Simultaneous magic resonating on each other and fragmented. The magus had been happy with their birth and his family had been relieved.

There was just something wrong with his birth. There had been no limit to him, just _beyond_. When the time came and the reality collapsed on itself, the choice on becoming the main base and connector for the barrier was easy. The fact that his soul remained strong and aware of himself was enough proof. Whenever Midorima comes and says how long it has been, it fills him with pride – even though time flows differently here.

Yet the Hum of power is ceaseless, and with time he understood the beyond was always with him. In a way, he was just a ticking bomb, and with the outlet poured on a closed circuit, whatever was out there could interact freely. The fabric of reality was not broken by the Blood breeds, he knew that much. So there must be something else, far greater than everyone on the other side of the coda.

Perhaps a bigger threat.

Kise is not so sure; his understanding of the universe is very little. For all it could be an intergalactic kitten that wanted a snack of reality.

(The fact that the image is entirely plausible should tell something about the universe they all exist in)

“I think the reason you are here and try to break the barrier is because there is something else out there that threatens you” he voices his suspicion abruptly and his usual visitor stops. The visits had become commonplace between them after that one time with the wounded Blood Breed. He has been silent for too long, on their usual bickering –Kise has had enough time to predict how they will go – and although he never tires of them, there is nothing wrong with adding a bit of spice. Let Midorima suspect later when he is gone.  

“Fascinating notion Magus” the green-eyed male replies with a longsuffering sigh. He still uses glasses, will continue to do so for at least another thousand years until his eyesight heals completely. Still a weakness outside, but not one easily exploitable, and Kise suspects he is enough of an exasperating company as to make the other forget what lays on his world behind the Coda, about all the impertinent beings and bothersome crimson winged that have grown restless.

“But I am not wrong am I? There are gods and fabled creatures out there; you are not an apex predator but share something with them.” The blonde quips with the curiosity of a child.

Midorima sighs and looks outside, to one of the entrances of the Coda, as if he can see the realm that lies beyond and smiles wryly. Kise has learned a lot from his body language since the taller male doesn’t like to speak much (bickering on the other hand…). His actions scream louder and the Magus would like to think he understands the other quite much without words. Midorima is clearly hiding something, perhaps there is more to it than just a being –perhaps the question lies on the creation of his race in itself.

“There is nothing you can do Magus” he finally says, a sideway glance from those green eyes and Kise can read the warning and acknowledgement in the slant of his lips.

“But you can?” He pokes, one eyebrow raised, answering the smile with a mischievous grin.

The Blood Breed shakes his head amused, and it almost feels like a universal breakthrough. “Who knows. Princess”

(The universe groans again)

 

* * *

**Magus (noun)**

[mey-guh s]

The human who tweaks beyond

Casters of human race. As all casters, their magic allows the bend and tweak of reality at will as long as their bodies allow it. Powers usually manifests in forms of varying PSI which take into account the exertion of the body’s physical limitations. There exist records of deviants yet they rarely reach the age of seventeen.

* * *

 

Something happened outside. The barrier that traps them all in shuddered and for a terrible second, broke.

It says something about Midorima that, instead of taking the opportunity and leave permanently, he flies desperately, crimson wings wide and frantic, to the coda at the core of the barrier. It says something when, upon finding the image of Kise’s soul still on the ground ( _on the flower field they sat together that day when he was vulnerable_ ), golden eyes unfocused, hands tight and white gripping his chest and middle, Midorima runs to hold him unheeded of the dangers it presents. It _screams_ something when he yells in despair after the image of Kise breaks between his fingers and the familiar luminous cyan around him darkens and cracks. It continues to scream when he finds no solace on the coda illuminating itself again because he is still afraid of the reality where the Magus might be dead for real.

Midorima however, is deaf.

So when he focuses his eyes again, and sees golden hair and a few human tissue on his hands he smiles in satisfaction. He breathes slowly through and the desperation leaves. The golden Magus is not dead, just this fragment of the soul, which now must have returned to the main source. The binds are now in place again, which means the Coda never broke. The image of golden eyes and pouty lips berating himself for not holding the Coda properly is enough to make him smug.

The blonde is the base of the barrier. The realization was slow but certain. Mostly because the thought of having a human at the base of such a complex spell was ludicrous. That and, of course, he had expected humans to balk at the thought of a human sacrifice, what with their morals and sensibility. However, the fact that Kise _exists_ at all says otherwise. These remains before him is just a proof of his correct deductions. Kise is proud of himself and his work, and the fact that he survived this accident justifies said pride.

(He has already done his good deeds by giving the other company. A painstakingly sacrifice, but a fair one considering the advantages shown to him. Which may or may not include bright smiles on a safe place)

There is dried blood on his hand, a sliver of red dust. He cleans it with his tongue, rationalizing that since the Coda is back into place he has lost his chance to go outside and have it fresh. The groan is involuntary just like the shudder through his entire self at the taste. He breathes hands trembling, sight blurring, and he feels red and ravenous. He is not conscious when he leaned on the floor, when he such out his tongue to lick the specs of blood on the floor. Lick it clean and gluttonous.

He wants more. He wants _all_.

The frenzy ends as fast as it started. It is not until there is not a speck left, when the wings of his true self beat furiously against his body to break free that Midorima takes a moment to rest. A hand goes through his hair, and he can feel both sweat and pulsations and laughs with a hint of hysteria and incredulity. Kise’s blood tasted like rapture. Just a few flecks of dried blood –and it had turned him, an ancient, into a little childe with his first taste of fresh blood.

How much more delightful would it be to taste it fresh from the living source? Midorima frowns grimly, a hand grabbing tightly the pieces of Kise’s real body. Kise is dead –not a surprise by any means- there is just no way for his desires to come into fruition. All what is left of the blonde Magus is his soul, pieces of his body and dried human blood.

_Human_

The Blood Breed smiles, red eyes shining with the same glistening red of his soul. That was the strengthening of the barrier: each key point would have a piece of Kise; and with each one gone, the Magic coda would weaken. In the end, he would obtain the Body, the Soul and the freedom to enter the Human world.

Perhaps the most welcome news would be the fact that he will not enter alone: he would do so with a fledging childe –a beautiful, golden all over, exasperating childe.

(Somewhere Kise reanimates and after the dull pain, he sits and whispers the name with trepidation and fondness. He will not tell the Blood Breed how he can feel all the pieces of himself. Let the poor creature have a privacy.

The possibility of Midorima knowingly continuing to fondle his remains is enough to make his soul curl and roll with shyness)

 

* * *

**Blood Breed Childe (noun)**

[bluhd breed chahyld]

The child of crimson wings

Considered the early stages of a Blood Breed. Scientific evidence about vampires are the product of the study of this proto-kind. Although it is shown to be powerless and vulnerable, behavior studies indicate that the ‘Parent’ is in permanent vicinity and has the tendency of violent protection.

* * *

 

It takes seven thousand years to find the next piece of the Magus’ soul. Apparently, not all the fragments of the body retained the soul. However, the Blood Breed suspects the pieces he found before had collapsed when the barrier broke that one time. He had just not found them yet.

(It unnerves him. He is aware it comes from a sense of helplessness and not from envy of someone else having a first sample of the Magus’ dried blood)

Of course, when he finds Kise, he is welcomed with a brilliant golden smile and enough joy to bring out sparkles. The _Midorimachiii~_ followed by a twirl around him and the common question of _How long has it been?_ Bring such a familiarity that warms his blood and eases his smile. It is almost as if nothing happened between them.

Almost.

He now sees Kise as a future partner, a child, a mate with alluring features and sinful blood. In turn, Kise sees him as an ominous force. Midorima can see it on the golden eyes – the recognition of the vampire’s intentions- before the smile settles and that golden gaze strays to the pocket of his robes. The green haired man answers with a beatific smile. On his robes he has the pieces of the other’s body he has found and recovered –just little bits of tissue, he suspects there must be at the very least a thousand of fragments.

(He was thorough with the spell and sacrifice. Midorima can’t help but admire such a tenacity on a human child.)

“You stepped on my remains when the final sigil of the spell was set.” it is a lull in the conversation again, Kise is sitting on the floor, legs extended and hands behind his back for support. There is no awkwardness, even when the final detail dawns on him with horrifying clarity. So that’s why he could access this realm of coda. “Say. When you find all the pieces. Can you at least give me a proper burial?” the ghost interrupts his thoughts. Not once does the golden stare stray from the roof in the Coda, and this lack of attention to him is what finally ticks Midorima off. Even with the tender knowledge that the blonde has implied his defeat.

“Kise…” he begins sternly, taking the role of a parent even when the blonde is still not his and doesn’t bear his mark. 

“I’m dead. You knew that already” Kise cuts in golden stare shining and face eerily neutral. He is alluring like that, golden, glowing, and with the curve of a shoulder provocatively hiding the beginnings of the lips. He is infuriating like that, all coy and tempting, with a blood unlike any other and with forbidden stamped all over himself.

“There is no Magus with enough strength to maintain this barrier coda and live on it for as long as you have” he answers with an unimpressed glare. The information is old, he has known that after his second visit five hundred years after the creation of the barrier. After all, no human could live that long. But this blonde ditz believes he is complaining about his death and not about his lack of desire on granting the request of proper burial. Ridiculous.

“It was supposed to be perfect.” the blonde whines crossing his legs on the floor, his lips almost pouting and Midorima doesn’t know whether to feel smug at the childish action or befuddled at the lack of attention span of the human “But it seems Kings are shifting the power and breaking things. Oh well, nothing remains forever.”

“Man proposes, God disposes” Midorima concurs succinctly. Universal laws stay above all beings.

“And the Blood Breeds like yourself?” is the playful inquiry. Face leaning in, showing the taut skin of that exposed neck that can’t be indulged in.

“They take whatever they have declared ownership upon. No matter how fragmented they are.” Is the whispered answer. Like a vow. Like a secret, like a promise. All Kise can see is the dangerous slant of the lips of this green haired creature. In exchange, all he sees is the hesitant tremble of the Magus’ lips.

“Midorima” The blonde mutters the moniker solemnly. He doesn’t ask the Blood Breed if he is tempting him into depravity. Kise knows better than that. He can feel threads of his coda tear a little. He can feel them like the sands of a debris falling into a pond. Kise was a Magus, but it feels like centuries ago, for time and existence don’t flow the same in this space, and much less when all that there is to him are fading memories, a purpose, and the eternal company of the enemy.

Midorima doesn’t insist on the topic either: he is a Blood Breed, one birthed before Tiamat was a concept. He is a greedy and possessive creature, nothing has been denied to him –it won’t happen now. He won’t allow it.

(And if that means he will turn Kise eternal and finally _touch_ him – _protect_ him. Well, that is just an extension of his greed. No one needs to know) 

 


End file.
